Lacrosse Team
by YoullJustHavetoDeal
Summary: Lane Finstock has been best friends with Scott and Stiles since kindergarten, and she's been involved in their mischief since as long as she can remember, but when a murder takes place mischief may have a quick turn towards danger and secrets. Secrets are soon followed by strained friendships for Lane, but a new relationship begins to bloom around the corner. Isaac/OC
1. Part One - Table of Contents

**Part One**

_Table of Contents_

1. Creepy Things


	2. 1 - Creepy Things

**1**

**Creepy Things**

"Okay, let's see this thing," Stiles muttered.

Scott moved his hands to the hem of his shirt and began to pull it upwards, and I narrowed my eyes in suspicion. The two had been notorious for pulling pranks on me since we were little, and I tried to be prepared for them always, even if they had toned the practical jokes down once we hit high school.

But the sight that Scott revealed didn't seem fake. Blood had seeped through the white bandage, making a red splotch blossom across the pure surface.

"Holy heck!" I exclaimed, my eyes bugging a bit, "What did you two _do?_"

"Shut _up_!" Stiles exclaimed, putting a hand over my mouth as Scott quickly tugged his shirt back down. Stiles' eyes darted to the people around us, and I quickly maneuvered my arm to get him off of me.

"We ran into the police and got separated," Scott replied, "I was attacked by something. It was too dark to see anything, but I'm pretty sure it was a wolf."

"A wolf bit you?" Stiles asked as the three of us started towards the school entrance.

Scott nodded, and I blinked a little.

"Scott, it couldn't have been a wolf," I said, grasping my book bag strap a little tighter and adjusting my lacrosse duffel.

Scott shrugged a little. "I heard a wolf howling."

"No, you didn't," Stiles shot back.

A scoff from Scott. Two eye rolls from me and Stiles.

"What do you mean I didn't?" Scott said, "I know what I heard."

I shook my head a little. "There are no wolves in California," I answered.

"Not in like, sixty years," Stiles added.

Scott looked dubious. "Really?"

"Yes, really," Stiles and I both answered, turning to face Scott.

Scott looked as if he was considering our response, weighing out the odds of our trustworthiness. "Well . . . if you don't believe me about the wolf, then you're definitely not going to believe me when I tell you that I found the body." A small breeze blew by, flicking a lock of his brown hair up, and I smiled a little at the temporary alfalfa.

Stiles' hand shot up towards Scott — he was always talking with his hands. "Are you kidding?"

My eyes seemed to have taken the permanent bug form. I mean, they'd said they were going out to the woods to look for half of a body last night — I'd declined the invitation, not really in the mood to go stalking through the woods for mutilated corpses — but I never thought that either of them would find it.

"I wish," Scott said, "I'm gonna have nightmares for a month."

Still bugging.

"Oh, dude, that is," Stiles took a breath, "that is frickin' awesome. I mean, this is gotta be the best thing that's happened to this town since . . ." He paused, and I looked through the oncoming throng to find the one person who could make Stiles stop talking. " — since the birth of Lydia Martin."

The strawberry blonde easily ignored him, continuing to talk to her friends. A small chuckle escaped my lips as Stiles did a complete 180 and shouted, "Hey, Lydia!"

I shook my head. "You're an idiot."

He didn't seem to hear me as he said, "You look . . . Like you're gonna ignore me." Stiles then quickly shot back around, his back pack flopping against his torso. "You two are the cause of this you know, bringing me down to your nerd depths."

I nodded. "Uh huh." The sound was saturated with sarcasm.

* * *

><p>"Hey," I breathed, dropping my bag next to the bench and propping my foot up to tie my cleat.<p>

"Hey, what's —" Stiles started.

"Can you grab my hair tie out of the side pocket of my bag?"

The wiry boy dove for the duffel and unzipped the side pocket. He let out a cough, and I glanced down at him to see his hands quickly rezipping the pocket. A blush rose to my cheeks when I realized he'd opened the pocket with pads in it.

"Sorry," I muttered, "Other pocket."

I heard an awkward laugh escaped him, followed with, "So what's the news on your dad today?"

Finishing up with the laces, I glanced over my right shoulder towards my dad, who was stalking over to Scott. "Pretty neutral, I think, unless something's changed between now and lunch."

"McCall!" his voice boomed.

"Seems like something has," I muttered as Stiles shoved the hair tie in my face. I grabbed it and rolled it onto my right wrist. "Or maybe he's just really pumped about this season."

I placed my foot on the ground and leaned forward, letting my brown waves fall in front of my face. The tips of my hair grazed the ground, and I gathered the locks in my hands, pulling as much of my baby hairs as I could. Then I pulled the hair through the hair tie, making a pony tail.

I stood up straight again and saw Stiles giving me a look. "I'm probably not going to play this year."

I shrugged. "Yeah, you will. Don't worry about it."

"Let's go! Come on!" Dad yelled, and I grabbed my lacrosse stick and jogged over to the rest of the team with Stiles. Scott was already standing in front of the goal, and I scrunched my eyebrows at the sight. Scott had never played goalie — it was always Danny, everyone knew that.

Stiles hit my bicep lightly. "Why is Scott goalie?"

I shrugged again, settling into the line of players. "Dunno."

The sound of a whistle echoed across the field, and the first person up to shoot threw the ball, which made its path straight for Scott's face. Laughter erupted amongst the growing crowd and the lacrosse players, and I felt myself grimace. "Crap, Scott," I muttered, glancing at Stiles, who had his buzz-cut head in his hands.

But the next time someone took a shot, Scott caught the ball, deflecting the goal as if the last twenty seconds hadn't even happened. A smile broke out across my lips, and I clapped. "Yeah, Scott!" I shouted, earning a few glances from the guys around me.

Goal after goal, and Scott was catching ever single shot. It was like no one even had a chance.

Heck, he was even better than Danny.

All was well until Jackson — team captain, golden boy, high school extraordinaire, _I don't have a vocabulary because my daddy wouldn't pay for it_ — Whittemore made his way to the front of the line. I shifted my gaze back to Scott to see his intimidated expression through his helmet.

"He's dead," I said to Stiles under my breath.

"Yep," Stiles agreed.

Jackson took off at a sprint, pulling back his lacrosse stick, and, without warning, he took the shot. The whole crowd seemed to quiet, until . . . Scott caught the ball!

"Holy crap!" I shouted, "You go, Scott! Oh my gosh!"

I turned towards Stiles with widened eyes and let out a short laugh of disbelief. "How much did he practice this summer again?"

* * *

><p>I plopped my book bag down on the ground and placed my hands on the cool metal of my lock, doing the new combination easily. Even though it was the first day of school, I already had homework, not that I minded too much. It was only a bit of English and Chemistry — okay, maybe a lot of Chemistry. But maths and sciences were my strong suit. I didn't struggle with them too much, which was why I was in advanced classes for those subjects.<p>

"Hey, Lanie!"

I turned my head towards the familiar voice and caught sight of Scott and Stiles jogging towards me through the hallways.

"No running in the school hallways," I said, "Harris is gonna give you two a detention, and it's only the first day."

The stopped next to me, and I pulled my locker door open, turning ninety degrees to look at them. "What's up?"

"We're going to look for —" Stiles started.

I shook my head. "No," I said, turning back to my locker to grab my literature text and my chemistry text. "I'm not looking for a mutilated body with pinhead and lacrosse wonder boy. I'm going to go home, do my homework, eat, and go to bed."

"Fine," Stiles answered, "But we also came to talk about practice today."

I closed the metal door and locked the lock, placing the text books in my bag and sealing the zipper. "Scott, what even are you?" I asked, a playful smile overtaking the flat line that had owned my lips moments ago.

He grinned. "I don't know; it was like everything was in slow motion."

"Yeah, well, it was awesome," I said. Then I turned to Stiles. "Seriously though, don't worry about not playing this year. You'll get your chance."

"Yeah . . . " he trailed, shrugging a little. I smiled and patted his shoulder mockingly.

"There, there," I said, gathering up my book bag. He laughed a little, but I could tell the whole thing was still bothering him. I didn't know how to make it better though.

"Anyway . . ." I said, "I gotta get on my way home. My dad's staying after to working on lesson plans and coach things and I'm just gonna go ahead and walk."

Scott and Stiles nodded. "Alright," Scott said, "See you tomorrow, Lane."

"Yeah, see you tomorrow," Stiles agreed.

I smiled lightly and picked up my duffel. "Bye, guys," I replied and turned towards the school's exit.


End file.
